I beg from you the greatest favour you can confer upon an absent person, since I repose upon your management what is dearest to me, my fame and reputation; and therefore I hope it will stir you up to make my poem fairer by many of your blots; if not, you know the story of the gamester who married the rich man's daughter, and when her father denied the portion, christened all the children by his surname, that if, in conclusion, they must beg, they should do so by one name, as well as by the other. But since the reproach of my faults will light on you, it is but reason I should do you that justice to the readers, to let them know, that, if there be anything tolerable in this poem, they owe the argument to your choice, the writing to your encouragement, the correction to your judgment, and the care of it to your friendship, to which he must ever acknowledge himself to owe all things, who is, sir, the most obedient, and most faithful of your servants,

JOHN DRYDEN.

From Charlton in Wiltshire, _Nov_. 10, 1666.

1 In thriving arts long time had Holland grown, Crouching at home and cruel when abroad: Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own; Our King they courted, and our merchants awed.

2 Trade, which, like blood, should circularly flow, Stopp'd in their channels, found its freedom lost: Thither the wealth of all the world did go, And seem'd but shipwreck'd on so base a coast.

3 For them alone the heavens had kindly heat; In eastern quarries ripening precious dew: For them the Idumaean balm did sweat, And in hot Ceylon spicy forests grew.

4 The sun but seem'd the labourer of the year; Each waxing moon supplied her watery store, To swell those tides, which from the line did bear Their brimful vessels to the Belgian sh.o.r.e.

5 Thus mighty in her ships, stood Carthage long, And swept the riches of the world from far; Yet stoop'd to Rome, less wealthy, but more strong: And this may prove our second Punic war.

6 What peace can be, where both to one pretend?

(But they more diligent, and we more strong) Or if a peace, it soon must have an end; For they would grow too powerful, were it long.

7 Behold two nations, then, engaged so far That each seven years the fit must shake each land: Where France will side to weaken us by war, Who only can his vast designs withstand.

8 See how he feeds the Iberian with delays, To render us his timely friendship vain: And while his secret soul on Flanders preys, He rocks the cradle of the babe of Spain.

9 Such deep designs of empire does he lay O'er them, whose cause he seems to take in hand; And prudently would make them lords at sea, To whom with ease he can give laws by land.

10 This saw our King; and long within his breast His pensive counsels balanced to and fro: He grieved the land he freed should be oppress'd, And he less for it than usurpers do.

11 His generous mind the fair ideas drew Of fame and honour, which in dangers lay; Where wealth, like fruit on precipices, grew, Not to be gather'd but by birds of prey.

12 The loss and gain each fatally were great; And still his subjects call'd aloud for war; But peaceful kings, o'er martial people set, Each, other's poise and counterbalance are.

13 He first survey'd the charge with careful eyes, Which none but mighty monarchs could maintain; Yet judged, like vapours that from limbecks rise, It would in richer showers descend again.

14 At length resolved to a.s.sert the watery ball, He in himself did whole Armadoes bring: Him aged seamen might their master call, And choose for general, were he not their king.

15 It seems as every ship their sovereign knows, His awful summons they so soon obey; So hear the scaly herd when Proteus blows, And so to pasture follow through the sea.

16 To see this fleet upon the ocean move, Angels drew wide the curtains of the skies; And heaven, as if there wanted lights above, For tapers made two glaring comets rise.

17 Whether they unctuous exhalations are, Fired by the sun, or seeming so alone: Or each some more remote and slippery star, Which loses footing when to mortals shown.

18 Or one, that bright companion of the sun, Whose glorious aspect seal'd our new-born king; And now a round of greater years begun, New influence from his walks of light did bring.

19 Victorious York did first with famed success, To his known valour make the Dutch give place: Thus Heaven our monarch's fortune did confess, Beginning conquest from his royal race.

20 But since it was decreed, auspicious King, In Britain's right that thou shouldst wed the main, Heaven, as a gage, would cast some precious thing, And therefore doom'd that Lawson[37] should be slain.

21 Lawson amongst the foremost met his fate, Whom sea-green Sirens from the rocks lament; Thus as an offering for the Grecian state, He first was kill'd who first to battle went.

22 Their chief blown up in air, not waves, expired, To which his pride presumed to give the law: The Dutch confess'd Heaven present, and retired, And all was Britain the wide ocean saw.

23 To nearest ports their shatter'd ships repair, Where by our dreadful cannon they lay awed: So reverently men quit the open air, When thunder speaks the angry G.o.ds abroad.

24 And now approach'd their fleet from India, fraught With all the riches of the rising sun: And precious sand from southern climates brought, The fatal regions where the war begun.

25 Like hunted castors, conscious of their store, Their waylaid wealth to Norway's coasts they bring: There first the north's cold bosom spices bore, And winter brooded on the eastern spring.

26 By the rich scent we found our perfumed prey, Which, flank'd with rocks, did close in covert lie; And round about their murdering cannon lay, At once to threaten and invite the eye.

27 Fiercer than cannon, and than rocks more hard, The English undertake the unequal war: Seven ships alone, by which the port is barr'd, Besiege the Indies, and all Denmark dare.

28 These fight like husbands, but like lovers those: These fain would keep, and those more fain enjoy: And to such height their frantic pa.s.sion grows, That what both love, both hazard to destroy.

29 Amidst whole heaps of spices lights a ball, And now their odours arm'd against them fly: Some preciously by shatter'd porcelain fall, And some by aromatic splinters die.

30 And though by tempests of the prize bereft, In Heaven's inclemency some ease we find: Our foes we vanquish'd by our valour left, And only yielded to the seas and wind.

31 Nor wholly lost[38] we so deserved a prey; For storms repenting part of it restored: Which, as a tribute from the Baltic sea, The British ocean sent her mighty lord.

32 Go, mortals, now; and vex yourselves in vain For wealth, which so uncertainly must come: When what was brought so far, and with such pain, Was only kept to lose it nearer home.

33 The son, who twice three months on th' ocean tost, Prepared to tell what he had pa.s.s'd before, Now sees in English ships the Holland coast, And parents' arms in vain stretch'd from the sh.o.r.e.

34 This careful husband had been long away, Whom his chaste wife and little children mourn; Who on their fingers learn'd to tell the day On which their father promised to return.

35 Such are the proud designs of human kind, And so we suffer shipwreck every where!

Alas, what port can such a pilot find, Who in the night of fate must blindly steer!

36 The undistinguish'd seeds of good and ill, Heaven, in his bosom, from our knowledge hides: And draws them in contempt of human skill, Which oft for friends mistaken foes provides.

37 Let Munster's prelate[39] ever be accurst, In whom we seek the German faith in vain: Alas, that he should teach the English first, That fraud and avarice in the Church could reign!

38 Happy, who never trust a stranger's will, Whose friendship's in his interest understood!

Since money given but tempts him to be ill, When power is too remote to make him good.

39 Till now, alone the mighty nations strove; The rest, at gaze, without the lists did stand: And threatening France, placed like a painted Jove, Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.

40 That eunuch guardian of rich Holland's trade, Who envies us what he wants power to enjoy; Whose noiseful valour does no foe invade, And weak a.s.sistance will his friends destroy.

41 Offended that we fought without his leave, He takes this time his secret hate to show: Which Charles does with a mind so calm receive, As one that neither seeks nor shuns his foe.

42 With France, to aid the Dutch, the Danes unite: France as their tyrant, Denmark as their slave, But when with one three nations join to fight, They silently confess that one more brave.

43 Lewis had chased the English from his sh.o.r.e; But Charles the French as subjects does invite: Would Heaven for each some Solomon restore, Who, by their mercy, may decide their right!

44 Were subjects so but only by their choice, And not from birth did forced dominion take, Our prince alone would have the public voice; And all his neighbours' realms would deserts make.

45 He without fear a dangerous war pursues, Which without rashness he began before: As honour made him first the danger choose, So still he makes it good on virtue's score.